


Out.

by Graphiteandhumanity



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Autistic Meltdown, Autistic Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Protective Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie Peters Angst (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie Peters Backstory (Julie and The Phantoms)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28623756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graphiteandhumanity/pseuds/Graphiteandhumanity
Summary: Alex and Luke fight.It's normal. Friends fight, it gets intense and then dies down in time to watch a movie that night.But Reggie's skin crawls with memories and he just wants Out.
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters
Comments: 5
Kudos: 108





	Out.

They're fighting.  
Reggie knows it's a fight that'll get real intense, real fast, and then it won't matter in an hour. Or maybe a day. But until that point, the sight of his two bandmates glaring holes into eachothers heads as they argue is one Reggie has to deal with.  
And he can. Deal with it, that is.

Usually, they're more careful. Usually, Luke's more aware of Reggie's sore points that Reggie is, and usually Alex is better at keeping things.. well, safe. As it turns out though, the breaking point isn't dying, it's not even almost-not-existing, it's something silly about a beat and a chord progression and- Willie?

Maybe Reggie wasn't following along with the argument as well as he thought.

"You can't keep doing this man! It's not fair to the band, not fair to-"

"Not FAIR?" Alex cuts Luke off in his rambles, his face stony.  
"What's not FAIR is you expecting us to put your goals above all else, you KNOW I love the band. That's not what this is about."

Reggie grips the strap of his bass, pulling it tight into his body, "What exactly is this about, I'm not really getting the whole-"

"Not now Reggie!" It's the first thing they've agreed on all practice, and the raised voices leave his ears ringing.

It's happening again. It's him. It's always him.  
His hands press roughly into the side of his head, pushing up onto his scalp and pulling at his roots.  
It's because of him. Always because of him.

Weakly, because apparently that's all he is now, he says, "Sorry," it's lost around the yelling he still can't comprehend through the static in his head and the uncomfortable awareness of everything touching his skin.

Luke's eyebrows are drawn in, his mouth settled into a disgruntled rest as he glares at Alex. Alex, whose face portrays something more certain than usual, more angry, and it's not a welcome change.

He can't stop the fighting, but he can stay out of the way. He tugs his hair and pulls his other arm in tight, scratching at his skin though the layers of cotton and leather and polyester. 

The layers are Bad. The fighting is Bad. His side feels warm and sticky and his scalp burns. 

He just wants Out.  
Out. Out. Out. Out. Out.

He pulls into himself, away from angry eyes and raised voices and the knowledge that he'll never be enough to keep together people he loves.

He wants Out. He wants the Bad to stop.

The side of his vision tracks the movement of Luke's guitar as he swings it sharply onto his back, the arc of Alex's drum sticks as they move through the air in one hand with his animated speech.

Reggie see's the things move, sticks and something heavy and he feels the anger, the disappointment, the blame, and his entire body tenses for the hit that's coming, "Out."

A door slams.

Reggie wants to think they're leaving maybe he's safe now. But the room is still thick with anger, suffocating and overwhelming.

He sees Julie.  
Julie.  
Julie's safe.  
Julie shouldnt be here.  
Julie shouldnt see this.  
Julie's safe.  
Julie's Good.

"What is going on in here,"  
The Bad moves and Reggie moves quicker, in front of Julie.

"Out," he's tries to explain but all he can get out is, "Out!"

Out. Out. Out.  
Julie's safe, it's Bad in here, Julie's gotta be Safe.

The anger stills.

"Reg?" Her voice is soft and hesitant and safe, and Reggie can't help but let it pull him out, just a little.

"Out," he tries again, but his eyes won't focus and his hands shake on the straps of the bass he's now using as a shield.

"Reggie oh my god," the voice comes from the Bad, the glossy area of perception he can't seem to focus on, but it sounds like safety and home. Reggie let's out a confused whine when his voice doesn't seem to work.

It's Bad and Safe and Home and Julie is behind him, coaxing, "C'mon Reg, wanna sit on the couch?"

Instead, he lowers to the ground right where he's standing, eyes glassy, clenching his side's as he feels the weight of the instrument lifted from his shoulders.

"Hnnm," hands flex and unflex and dig sharply back into the dip of his waist. Gently, his wrist is pulled back, his hand placed in someone else's, warm and soft.

"We're in the garage man, it's okay, you're okay, I promise," the voice is uncertain, there's a shake to it, but Reggie knows this person. The tinge of guilt goes unnoticed.

He screws his eyes shut, stupid. He thinks. Won't focus. Won't show him. 

"Out. Out. Out Out Out Out. Out!" The urgency of his voice grows and he scrambles to pull himself up, get himself Out. 

"Shhhh buddy, your good where you are okay? It's just us Reg, in the garage. Just us. You know that? Just us," a warm hand, calloused and bigger, layers over his and Julie's.

"Just us," Reggie echos.

"That's right, Julie's right beside you holding your hand," squeeze, "and me, Alex, I'm here right here," 

" 'lex?" 

"Yeah bud, I'm here, and Luke's there on your other side, he's holding you steady ok? He's got you."

The other hand squeezes and a little of the fog lifts off his brain, leaving him scrambling for the threads of reality before his mind tucks them back away.  
His heart beats raggedly, adrenaline coursing through. His whole body feels Bad like he just wants to crawl out of it and sleep.

He's on the edge.  
The Bad isn't far, but it's not so near anymore.

"I'm sorry," he chokes on his apology, pulling his hands free at the same time as his torso caves in on itself, desperate for comfort but also desperate for the safety of being alone.

"No man we're sorry," Luke starts, empathic and certain.

"We should have known better," Alex's continues softly, "We should've sorted out our issues by talking about it instead of letting it turn into something that would effect you guys too."

Suddenly, he doesn't care about what the Bad was or where it went, he just wants to feel Safe, the way his boys and Julie make him feel.

He lets out a desperate sort of whine and hit his closed fist on his thigh. 

A hand closes onto his, stopping the rhythmic hits, "Hhhhmmmn," he tries to pull out, shoulder rolling uncomfortably.

The grips gives him some freedom, but a gentle hand remains on his as it's placed in his lap.

"Can I touch you, hug you?"

"Can I touch you," Reggie echos.

"Yeah?" Soft and patience.

"Touch you," his borrowed words are answer enough, and soon he's engulfed in the warm arms of Luke. He keeps his own arms tight to his body, but leans into the embrace. Safe.

Moments pass, then minutes, and Julie's hand settles on Reggie's forearm, an even grounding pressure to counter the soft touch of Alex's fingertips up and down his calve. Luke's arms are wound tight around him, and the touch of his friends helps brings his scattered thoughts back into his head.

And he feels stupid.  
Monumentally stupid.  
He really made this all about him.

He wants to apologize, but all that comes out is a kinda of uncomfortable huff of air.

Julie hears and responds in kind, though not to what he was trying to say. "Should we take this cuddle pile up to the couch? Not that I'm not loving this but my knees are not loving the concrete"

There's a mumbled agreement, but the stillness remains at Reggie's silence.

"Wanna move to the couch so we can get comfy man?" Alex's voice is delicate, the movement of his fingertips on Reggie remaining steady as he speaks.

He breathes in and out again.  
Why did they humour his stupid shit.  
Why is he still letting them.

He tenses as he spirals in the quiet gap between question and answer, face wrinkling as he critiques his own behaviour.

He's pulled back out of his swirling thoughts by a gentle hand on his forehead, smoothing the furrow or his brow. "None of that okay? Just cuddles and comfort and when your ready we'll talk okay? Only when your ready."

It's a kindness Reggie doesn't think he deserves, but accepts anyway, and let's his friends migrate to the couch, his movements mostly dictated by the soft touch of Luke and Alex on either side, while Julie pulled out the couch and filled it with every cushion she could reach.

The settle in Alex sitting up against the back of the couch with the intertwined form of Reggie and Luke pulled into his lap, head on his chest. Julie sits beside him Reggie's hands on her lap and he sorts through her bracelets, organising systematically, categorised in ways only he seems to understand.

With Alex's hands soft in his hair, and the murmured words of comfort from Luke at each scrunch of his eyebrows or tense of his body, lull Reggie into a hesitant rest.

His mind is scarred and choppy and flawed, but surrounded by people who understand it better than even himself, Reggie manages to find a little bit of peace amongst the lingering Bad.

**Author's Note:**

> hi!
> 
> this is my first fic since I was writing shitty Wattpad pjo/hp crossovers at 14, so bare with me!!  
> I've been binge reading every neurodivergent jatp fic I can get my hands on, and when I ran out I decided to make my own.


End file.
